


Despite What You've Been Told

by bloodstonepentagram



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, episode 37 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodstonepentagram/pseuds/bloodstonepentagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil is upset by the events of the auction, but Carlos is here to help him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Despite What You've Been Told

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of people are writing fluff based on the premise that Carlos bought Lot 37, so I wrote one based on the premise that he didn't. In related news, cute dorks are continuing to ruin my life.

Cecil felt sick. He was sure he was going to throw up. Looking down, he saw that his hands were shaking badly.

Interns looked at him in pity as he left the room. Daniel gave him the usual blank, robotic stare as he punched out (new StrexCorp policy), and Cecil could only vent the hatred welling in him with the coldest, nastiest glare he could muster.

He got into his car, put the key in the ignition. Didn’t move.

He sat there for a while, resting his head on the steering wheel. He couldn’t muster the energy to drive home. 

Lot 37. Cecil Palmer.

Who had..had bought him? And for what purpose? How had he been auctioned off in the first place? Was it a punishment for his little act of rebellion against StrexCorp a few weeks ago? 

What had happened to Night Vale?

He jumped when he heard a knock on the window, but when he looked up he saw only Carlos’s sweet, concerned face looking in on him.

He opened the door, quickly pulling his boyfriend in.

“I told you not to come here!” Cecil said, smiling in spite of himself. “It’s too dangerous.”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Carlos said, putting a soft hand on Cecil’s cheek. “I was worried about you.”

Oh, his phone. He’d turned it off before entering the auction house. He must have forgotten to turn it back on afterwards.

“I…I’m fine,” he said unconvincingly.

“Cecil…” Carlos stroked his hair gently. It felt nice. Cecil leaned into his touch, closing his eyes and letting the sensation wash over him.

“Cecil,” Carlos continued, “I’m sorry. I tried to get into the auction, but they wouldn’t let me in, they kept making me do more and more paperwork… I think they were trying to keep me out on purpose.”

Cecil opened his eyes again, turning to look at his wonderful, perfect Carlos. 

“You would have done that for me?”

“Of course, Cecil!” Carlos said, taking Cecil’s hand and looking earnestly into his eyes. “I am so sorry that I…that I couldn’t do anything… We’ll fix this, though. We’ll…we’ll figure out something.”

Cecil felt tears welling up in his eyes. Carlos, seeing them, pulled Cecil into a hug. They were forced to position themselves awkwardly over the gear shift, but it was worth it to feel Carlos’s comforting warmth.

“Here, get out and switch seats,” Carlos said. “I’ll drive you home, okay?”

Cecil nodded gratefully, and Carlos helped him out of the driver’s seat and into the passenger’s.

The drive was quiet. Cecil rested his cheek on the window, looking dejectedly at the streets of what had once been his beloved Night Vale. He wondered where Tamika Flynn and her army were now, and he wished them the best of luck.

Carlos parked outside of Cecil’s apartment, helping him out of the car, taking him by the arm as they walked up the three flights of stairs (the elevator was haunted again).

Cecil fumbled with his keys, finally getting the door open, and the two of them went inside.

“Go lie down,” Carlos suggested, rubbing Cecil’s shoulders soothingly. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Cecil muttered, leaning his head on Carlos. 

“You need to eat,” Carlos insisted. 

“Food can’t fix everything, you know,” Cecil said. Then again, he was kind of hungry, now that he thought about it. He went to lie down on the couch, hearing the clatter of pantry doors as Carlos began searching his kitchen.

He must have dozed off. He woke up to the smell of something delicious, and to Carlos’s warm, gentle embrace. They ate on the couch together, Cecil making sure to keep at least one part of his body in contact with Carlos at all times, reassured by his solidity.

When they’d finished Carlos got up to take their plates away. As he stood he planted a kiss on Cecil’s forehead. “Whatever happens, you’re still you. Always remember that, Cecil.”

Cecil smiled, laying back down, letting his mind wander. Whatever happened, whatever horrible things were thrown at them next, at he had his beautiful, perfect Carlos.

At least he had Carlos.

**Author's Note:**

> I will forever love the headcanon that Carlos is an excellent cook. Also, silly Cecil, of course food fixes everything!


End file.
